55: Harvest (Patreon)

Over the following days Nicolai continued to work at his Seed, and the numbers experienced an exponential rise, blowing all of his previous progress out of the water.

Thirty rose to fifty and rolled into sixty and pushed toward seventy. Nicolai had become obsessed with his process of hunting bands of mining undead, and as he continued to fight them he grew ever more efficient, to the point where every ten-to-twenty minutes, on average, he would have taken out yet another group. 

The main factor slowing him down was that he was determined to get every Soul wisp, which meant he was required to take the undead one-by-one, holding the Soul Trap in one hand and a broken pickaxe he found which worked well as a club in the other. This method gave him time to catch each wisp before it fled. If he could have simply charged through, laying about indiscriminately, without worrying about catching the Soul wisps, the process would have been even quicker.

He could have focused on taking skulls, hiding them, and waiting for the next day, but Nicolai was wary of building some pile of skulls. It was better for the bones of those he killed to be scattered randomly around the tunnels. He felt that should draw less attention. There were thousands of undead working here, and the few he killed were a drop in the bucket. But if he built a big pile of skulls, and a smarter one found it, it might cause him a problem.

His Seed was shimmering brighter and brighter, now, though fortunately he found a way to have it dim its light, otherwise talking to Harold with it shining out his mouth would have become quite problematic. Luckily, it didn’t grow any bigger, so he was able to keep it there in his mouth. 

As he continued his slaughter of the undead miners, he continued to practise connecting to it over and over, and utilising its Soul Sense. He was pretty sure both of these counted as “bonding,” as his Seed’s description said he needed to do. As it soaked in the power, he found his ease of connecting to it growing, and at times it would happen without him even thinking. 

He would be crushing a few skeletons and then he’d find himself in his own mouth, peering out between his gritted teeth. At first this was a very unhelpful distraction, but in time he grew used to it, began to straddle his body and the Seed’s with increasing ease, able to connect even by surprise without issue.

He also noticed his Soul Sense growing not only easier to use, but also larger, able to generate more tendrils and stretch further away from him. When he’d first started using his Seed’s Soul Sense, he’d only been able to send the tendrils out a couple of metres in any direction. Now he could reach at least five, and this plus his increasing ease of using it led him to utilise it more often, in fights and out, questing around him for information and using it as a way to keep track of everything immediately around him.

One time, a skeleton got behind him in the chaos of his assault on a mining crew, but when it swung a pickaxe at the back of his head, Nicolai was able to easily duck out of the way. He’d felt it coming with the tendrils of his Seed, had sensed it get behind him, and tracked the pickaxe as it prepared to swing. 

This was something that had made him exceedingly happy. The Seed was able to improve his combat capabilities, one of his primary obsessions.

He had also been making efforts to take away Oma crystals for himself. His goal, initially, was to get those Oma crystals out of the pit, through the prison, and then secret them in a cell nearby to where the Warden had blocked his tunnel out to the safe place. He still felt that would be his best route, as he’d seen no signs of any other way out, so building a stockpile beside it would be worthwhile for when he worked out how to deal with the Warden.

However, he’d so far had no luck in his Oma crystal thieving efforts. Every time he attempted to carry crystals up the pit, the Wardens up top would sense them in some manner and immediately come for him when he reached the top. They would seize the crystals and that was that. 

Nicolai had then performed reconnaissance of the area where the undead brought their carts full of crystal-studded rocks for breaking, searching for a way to steal crystals, but this area was exceedingly well guarded by plenty of the more elite undead, some of whom had began watching him back. 

There had been an edge of intelligence in their eyes that made him wary, and he’d pulled away after a short while, concerned that if he remained overlong they would come and investigate him. He was able to act freely because the undead didn’t realise that his band was not enforcing the rules it was supposed to enforce. It was important he didn’t give them reason to investigate and realise that this was not the case. 

He had come up with a few plots, such as stealing from one of the carts as it was between the top of the pit and the rock smashing area, or finding rope and some kind of container then using it to pull crystals up to the top of the pit, therefore bypassing the exit and entrance of the pit which was guarded by many Wardens. 

However, the edge of the pit was regularly patrolled, and the elite undead were in significant number on the path the carts took from the top of the pit to the rock breaking area. He had determined any kind of Oma crystal heist would require him to spend time studying the undead, working out exactly how everything worked, and searching for some kind of weak point to target. 

In the end, he had opted to instead spend his time in the tunnels at the bottom of the pit, hunting undead and feeding his Seed. That was his top priority, and thieving crystals would come second.

The main useful finding he had made in his brief efforts, was noting that the Wardens up the top would only seize crystals when he reached them. Anything below the level of the top of the pit, they didn’t seem to care about. He could stand just a few dozen metres away from them, on the uppermost portion of the slope before the exit, holding an armful of crystals, and they would ignore him. 

Simultaneously, the undead miners only focused on gathering and mining crystals at the bottom of the pit. 

All this had been made clear to him when he’d noticed the occasional spill of Oma-crystal studded rocks on the winding path around the outside of the pit. It seemed to be a kind of blind-spot as far as the undead were concerned. The miners working in the pit wouldn’t bother to collect crystals on the slope, and the elites and Warden’s guarding the top weren’t interested in descending to seize those crystals, either.

This had led Nicolai to do some searching toward the top of the pit. He’d been very pleased to find a sneaky little crevice in the rock beside the path, just a few dozen metres beneath the top of the pit. 

There he had begun squirrelling away Oma crystals, building a stash for the future. He might not be sure exactly how to get them out past the Wardens right now, but in the future he might discover a method, or they might simply become distracted. In that case, it would be wise to have a stockpile nice and close to the top, where he could easily get to it.

It didn’t require much time, either, as Nicolai simply gathered crystals alongsiide his other activities. While in the tunnels, Nicolai would take the time to collect any crystals he found, and work to carve any bits of rock off of them. He built up little stockpiles in various places, and at the end of each day he would bring these crystals up to the crevice, where he hid them away. 

Whenever he found something that could be used as a bag, he took it up there too, to keep the crystals tidily stored and ready for carrying. 

There were also quite a few chunks of crystal that had spilled out of carts on the slope itself, and whenever he went up or down he would gather any he noticed, chiselling away the rough bits of stone as he took them with him, leaving them either at the bottom for the next time he came by, or up top in his stash.

For the first few nights of his new life in the pit and the prison, Nicolai had settled into his own chosen cell, one far from Harold’s so that he wouldn’t be forced to converse with the man all night, and he would eat some sustaining fruit and sleep. 

However, in time this changed. Oddly, Harold began to grow on him as they spent time together, bit by bit, moment by moment, especially when Nicolai was more focused on his simulation of humanity. After observing him for some time Nicolai began to feel that Harold was particularly… human, in some of the better ways. 

One moment in particular stood out.

‘I’ve always been a coward,’ Harold had said, and Nicolai had turned to stare at him. ‘That’s why I stayed in the cart pretty much the whole time. I tried looking around, for a way out, but then…’ Harold had swallowed and turned away, looking to be thinking of some past event, something bad. ‘Well. I’ve just stayed in the pits ever since. I’ve been trying to get better, to stop being afraid, for a while now.’ He’d chuckled. ‘My whole life, it seems.’

‘Are you doing better?’ Nicolai had asked, curious.

Harold had made a seesaw gesture with his hands. ‘Here and there. Bit by bit. Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.’

Nicolai had nodded, unsure what to think. He hadn’t expected Harold to confess something so personal. ‘Why are you telling me this?’ he’d asked.

Harold had smiled. ‘I saw how you reacted, when we first met. You looked down on me.’

Nicolai had been hard pressed to maintain control of his features. He hadn’t realised Harold had noticed. He’d opened his mouth to retort. ‘No, not at all—‘ he’d begun.

Harold had raised a hand. ‘It’s fine. I don’t mind. I understand. I just wanted to let you know. That I’m trying. Of course, you don’t have to care. Probably you don’t. I just, I guess I just felt I should say something.’ He’d been frowning, seeming a bit unsure, then, of his words, of his reasoning. He’d looked up, all of a sudden, face earnest. ‘I think you’re the same. In a way. Not a coward. Not like me, anyway. But I can tell you’re also trying to change.’

Nicolai had kept his face carefully blank as he’d stared back. ‘In what manner do you suppose I am trying to change?’ he’d asked, his paranoia worming within him, demanding he find out just what and how much Harold knew. 

Harold had shrugged, looking free and relaxed. ‘I don’t know. But I can tell you are. I hope you’re succeeding in whatever it is you’re trying to do.’

Am I succeeding? Nicolai had wondered. He wasn’t sure. But at that moment he’d realised there was a kind of kindred spirit between them. In general, he’d come to view Harold as largely useless and occasionally annoying. But it seemed that Harold held some commonalities with himself. 

Certainly, he could understand the man better now. Their struggle was not dissimilar. Nicolai did not find controlling his warped mind and unruly body at all easy, and clearly Harold had his own struggles. Perhaps he shouldn’t look down on the man. Perhaps he could learn something from him. He decided to try his best to be more human, when around Harold. To attempt to think and feel things he wouldn’t normally feel. He phrased this to himself as an experiment.

Following this, the more time Nicolai spent with Harold, the more he found his own simulation of humanity firming as he did his best to learn. As it did so, he began to feel strange, simulated urges. To be more human, and to see what that felt like.

He wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, curiosity or some sense of obligation or some other strange madness within him. Either way, soon he found himself in Harold’s chosen cell when night came.